The Puppeteer's Utopia
by o0CheckMate0o
Summary: Suzaku had a nice life in utopian society. Then a mysterious fugitive came along and started exposing the horrorific truth of just how far his leader is willing to go to maintain that 'utopia'. // AU, eventual LuluSuza. Rating may rise.
1. Prologue

A/N: Why am I starting a new chapter fic you might ask? Mainly because I felt like my other one was boring. It was moving too slow and didn't have enough depth to it. Depth in the sense of real-world commentary/application. So this is kind of more serious and not entirely restricted to the Code Geass fandom. I'm going to try and move this one faster than my other chapter fic and make it more interesting. The chapters will probably be shorter in length because it makes it easier on me. I think. XD haha…so this is political commentary. Read into it what you will. But I mostly hope that you'll enjoy it. :3

This is a really short prologue to try and peak interest, see who and how many end up interested. Please leave me some nice reviews, and judging by the response I'll determine when to put up the first chapter. It's already typed up for once =)

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters belonging to Code Geass. Most of the story idea is mine though you might find hints of other books/movies/TV shows which offered inspiration. I don't own those, either.

* * *

**Prologue**

"It's a conspiracy, I tell you!" A man with wild hair and tattered clothes yelled. His eyes were wild, pupils dilated, black lost in a sea of white. The station for the bullet train was bustling with people but everyone ignored the man.

A hovering sign in the sky flashed "Prosperity. Peace. Loyalty", the country's motto, in between updates of the bullet train's schedule.

"They _replace_ people! I saw it! I _saw_ what they were doing!" The man tried to get in the faces of the men and women dressed in suits as they passed, but they walked by briskly, communicating through barely visible ear pieces. Someone even shoved the man aside when he got too close, causing him to fall to the ground. While no longer in sight, his cries were still audible.

"What price are you willing to pay for peace? Does free will mean _nothing_?"

The things the raving homeless said never sat well with him. Standing amongst the crowd waiting for his train, he tried to ignore the chilling words, the sour feeling he got in his stomach when he saw the disgust on people's faces as they passed.

"People like that are really awful, aren't they?" A girl in front of him whispered to her friend. "Don't you just wish they would go away?"

He looked down and chewed the inside of his cheek to stay quiet.

A mechanical voice announced the upcoming arrival of the train and politely and cheerfully asked that everyone maintain the line, not push or shove, and have their collarbones ready for the ID chip scan.

"Finally…" the girl sighed in relief, minor annoyance coating her words. "Can you believe we have to wait a whole four and a half minutes between trains? It's stupid."

"You would think that in this day and age they could make it faster," her friend replied. "But whatever, it's here now."

"The truth cannot be hidden forever! You can only plug your ears for so long before it will be staring you in the face! We are better than the lambs being led to the slaughter, my friends! We are _humans_! Do not forget that! _Do not forget what you are capable of!_"

He uneasily brought a hand to his temple to open up the private display on his slim glasses. In the corner blocky green numbers represented the time and he began to browse the day's schedule without honestly paying attention. There was a meeting with that company they had been trying to score a deal with for months, a lunch date with his friends…Anything to block out the discomfort from his surroundings.

The tell-tale soft hiss of the bullet train, followed by the cheery jingle announcing its arrival made him relax and he lowered his hand while giving the mental command to shut off his display. The voice from before informed them that the train had arrived, to please let the passengers off safely, and to be careful when getting on. The side of the train had the image of their leader, their "president" smiling kindly and resting his hand on the head of a child whom looked up at him adoringly. The words, "Let us help you" spread across the sleek car in large letters. Doors opened and people began to file out calmly without scrambling to rush. They moved quickly, but it was as one body moving together so as to make things more efficient. When everyone had exited, the group going on began to shuffle forward in a similar manner.

"You do not have to conform! We can protect ourselves, we can protect our _rights—!"_

As he started to move forward as well, he could hear a sudden change in the man's tone. From the desperation to inform it had turned to a fear, the desperation to survive.

"No! Wait! Let go of me—!"

He tried to look over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of peacekeeper uniforms, their stunners raised to deal with the struggling man. A knot formed in his throat and his legs became stiff. There was this desire to watch even if he didn't want to see, an insatiable curiosity, but the people behind him were pushing him forward.

"Come on, I'm going to be late to work! Please move!"

In the end he was herded into the train, and when he looked out the small windows he could see nothing but huge bodies of people moving one way or the other. He slumped into a cushioned seat and didn't look up when the seat next to him was filled. Screens suspended from the ceiling chirped advertisements for a number of products…a useless action, as people bought the same things, anyway.

He tried to push the image of a frantic man with wild eyes and hair out of his mind to focus on the day he had ahead of him.

The doors slid shut and the bullet train began moving along its gentle, speedy ride. The advertisements changed to an interview with the president that no one paid attention to. Most people were using their glasses, silently communicating, or listening to music through their earpiece.

"…I believe that everyone agrees with me when I say that the happiness of the people has been the government's top priority for the entire twenty-three years I've been in office. We work hard to keep people safe, but everyone knows that certain things have to be enforced to maintain the level of safety we strive for. So we just continue to make sure people are aware of how important it is that they follow our advice. As long as everyone follows the rules, they are helping to contribute to a safe, efficient, and happy society. Cooperation really benefits everyone in the end…"

Watching the city pass by, he found himself hoping it was just the lack of breakfast causing the turmoil in his stomach.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: I was thinking about it, and asking for an amazing response in regards to a tiny, vague prologue isn't really fair. You need a bit more to determine whether it's interesting or not, right? So here you go, my first chapter~ Kind of short but I think it starts to set up more of an understanding of the way this world works. Plenty of commentary here. 8D; I would love to see what people think of this one…hopefully enough stuff here to get some more opinions? :3?

But I do want to thank everyone that read the prologue and favorite/watched/reviewed it! Thank you very much! X3

Disclaimer is in the prologue and I don't feel the need to repeat it every chapter like I usually tend to do~

* * *

"…Suzaku? Hey, earth to Suzaku. You there buddy?"

The familiar nasal-y voice of his blue haired friend snapped him out of his thoughts. He gave him a weak smile and ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah…sorry about that Rivalz. I'm coming in for landing now. What were you saying?" Even to his own ears he sounded weary, although it wasn't a lack of sleep that sapped at his ability to focus.

"Seriously? I've repeated myself like, five times already. Are you feeling all right? The pressure getting to you?"

They were in Suzaku's roomy office. It was one of the jewels of the company, reserved for the top employees…or, that's what the boss said. Then again the same line was fed to every other member of the company regarding their own office. Four cream colored walls, a mahogany colored door, and a large desk to match were standard issue in his line of business. One wall was fitted with a "window", a long rectangle of "glass" that was fairly simple in design. Because they couldn't give everyone a real window, and not giving _everyone_ a window wasn't fair, every office came with a fake one. They were all decorations…good quality though, with several programmable moving pictures. Suzaku usually kept his on a park with a grand looking tree right "outside", an occasional breeze gently tousling the leaves. Suzaku sat in his comfortable faux-leather desk chair while Rivalz sat across from him, straddling the guest chair backwards.

"I know, and I really am sorry…but I'm fine." He considered the reasons he might be so preoccupied, but decided that any answer he may have chosen would be too complicated and personal to share with his work friend. "It probably is just stress. We've been working on this one for months."

"Don't worry, Suzaku," Rivalz smiled and leaned over the back of the chair to pat Suzaku on the arm. "We all know you're going to nail it. It's a big deal and everyone understands that something of this caliber takes a while to get. Just take your time and do your best. I think the customer really likes you, too!"

Suzaku nodded and gave another light, meaningless smile as he partially turned his chair to look at the virtual window. He found himself wishing, not for the first time, that he could open it and just take a moment to enjoy the breeze and the warm glow of sunshine on his cheeks. The breath of fresh air would be relaxing, but as it was now he couldn't take the time to step out of the building.

"Hey…I think you should go see the company counselor. She could probably give you some better advice."

"Your advice is great!" Suzaku immediately defended. He wasn't sure why he was reluctant to go visit her. "Besides, the meeting is really soon. It'll probably end up going until lunch, and then I thought we were all getting together at the coffee shop."

"Take this advice then. It'll take you what, five minutes? Your health should be worth at least five minutes." Rivalz gave him a solemn look that fell away quickly in favor of a grin. "I gotta run though, so I'll catch you at lunch. Good luck…and go see her!"

Suzaku rolled his eyes playfully and shooed Rivalz out, who gave him a friendly wave in return before dashing off to take care of his own work. With a sigh he leaned back in his chair and momentarily shut his eyes. The image at the station refused to leave him alone and he was slowly developing a migraine. No one else seemed bothered by what had happened…why he alone would be disturbed eluded him. The meeting was in six minutes, but after another round of contemplation he figured that it would be best to calm his nerves before taking on such an important deal and made his way through the building to her office. He knocked and waited for the smooth metallic voice to give him permission to enter. As he opened the door a wave of artificial flower-scented perfume hit him like a ton of bricks and he had to struggle to keep from gagging. It was too syrupy sweet, an attempt to cover up the tell-tale metallic twinge that differentiated it from a natural plant, and it ruined any chance it might have had at creating a soothing atmosphere. Some people had plant allergies, he supposed…

The room almost appeared hazy. It was dimly lit and decorated with serene paintings and silk plants. Soothing "nature" sounds filled the room. Currently it was on "ocean waves" with the volume turned down to create a gentle ambience. Seated behind the desk in the middle of the room (a desk that looked an awful lot like his own) was the form of a girl. Her skin was smooth and silver and glimmered in the dim light, mostly flat lines and sharp angles so as not to offend anyone with any vaguely anatomically correct features. She didn't have a mouth and her eyes weren't eyes. Her head was round with tiny microphones set on either side and pinpricks covering her "mouth" area for speakers. A black band wrapped halfway around her head in place of eyes, and when the head turned towards him he couldn't suppress a shudder. He supposed he had forgotten that this was the reason he didn't care to see her.

"Welcome to the counseling office for workplace concerns. Please take a seat across from me."

Her voice wasn't too bad. It was smooth despite the metallic edge synthetic sounds still struggled to remove. He hesitated in the doorway before slowly making his way over to the plush armchair resting on the other side of her desk and sat down tensely, as if expecting the movement to trigger an explosion. When nothing happened he let out a long, shaky breath and attempted to relax.

"I have identified you as Suzaku Kururugi, contract manager of department D, section four. Is this information correct?"

"Ah, yes," he murmured awkwardly, folding and unfolding his hands in his lap. "Look I need to make this quick, I have five minutes before my next meeting."

"Understood. Proceeding with brief therapy." Then her attitude seemed to change and she held more of a relaxed and open posture as she tilted her head and gestured to him with a claw-like hand. "Suzaku, why don't you tell me what's bothering you."

He figured a more casual and conversational choice of words would make people feel more comfortable. It still felt weird watching the machine mimic a human, but the movements were surprisingly smooth.

"Right…well, uh…I've felt worn out lately, even after a full night of sleep. I don't feel like doing the things I really used to enjoy and…there's always this anxiety lingering in the back of my mind that I don't understand. Something has been bothering me, but I'm not even sure what it is…"

The robot therapist nodded occasionally to show that it was listening, but he ended up staring down at his shoes to avoid watching the movement. It made him feel uncomfortable to be speaking to the thing, as if something about it wasn't right.

"I'm aware of your latest contract deal. I believe you are concerned because of the weight this deal has on your career, and that concern puts strain on your mind and body. The best course of action would be to try some relaxation exercises. Picture yourself closing the deal and explore how you might get there. Remember that your boss and co-workers respect you and your abilities and that everyone understands the time and effort you need to put into the job. If you relax, remove the urgency, and simply focus on the goal, it should greatly reduce your stress."

Of course everyone would attribute it to his job. The deal, the deal, the deal…the deal causes stress, the deal causes depression, the deal causes lethargy, the deal manifests itself into a physical ailment, namely a sour feeling in his stomach accompanied by the occasional bought of acid reflux. He didn't even bother trying to force a smile for the robot.

"Yeah…thanks…"

"I see that you haven't taken any vacation days recently, either. I suggest taking a week off once the contract is finalized. I've already contacted your boss and he believes you deserve it."

"All right. I'll look into it." A quick glance at the corner of his glasses told him his time was up and he rose from his chair. "I appreciate your advice. Thank you again. I'll be sure to keep it in mind."

The words felt empty.

Suzaku was usually a very sincere person. If he said it, he meant it…_really_ meant it, and managed to feel that way about everything people did for him. He was always grateful when people tried to help him because he understood that it was a sign of how much they cared about him. But with this feeling following him around, this nagging sensation that it was all wrong, he had lost that gratitude and sincerity. Especially now, sitting in front of a machine with a blank face, metal claws, and a synthesized voice, he wondered why he still bothered to thank anyone when he didn't really mean it.

The thought felt dark and he pushed it into the back of his mind along with the unpleasant sensation that refused to leave him alone.

After saying rushed goodbyes to the therapist he headed towards the conference room. He really hoped they had coffee.

* * *

A half an hour into the meeting, Suzaku was bored. He stared into the dark brown contents of his biodegradable paper cup and was greeted by his murky reflection.

He chewed at the end of his stirring stick. He drew figure-eight patterns with the chewed up stick in his coffee and watched it swirl about. He tapped his fingers on the tabletop to five different rhythms from commercial jingles they always played in the bullet train.

Two hours into the meeting, Suzaku was contemplating whether or not someone could actually die from boredom.

The computer screen in the middle of the conference table showed a messy hodge-podge of documents thrown together, consisting of additions, editing of the terms, rewrites, and the tentative copy they were attempting to get a signature on today. It might have been interesting if he actually had to persuade the people to sign, but as it was both sides _knew_ that in the end, no matter what the details were, they would have their deal. That was why people were so sure he'd get this one in the bag.

Because of some governments in the past, many things were deemed unfair. The term "equality" took on the meaning, "we all have it or none of us has it." The economy was revamped. Competition wasn't fair and made people unpleasant. Every industry only had one company creating the product or providing the service. That way everyone would work nicely with each other. Everything was already set out for them. The government told them what prices to use to be sure that they were "fair". While they were allowed to estimate their own output, everything had to be passed by the government and approval was required to do business. Many things had to be reported to the government, to protect everyone from inappropriate products or services. These meetings, the ones that ate up so much of his time the past few months, were mainly a formality.

"…So you see, we're still debating many aspects of the show. For example, we originally had the main character have red hair because it's underrepresented in television. But upon closer inspection we found that choosing red hair might not be fair to people with other hair colors. Lately we've been talking about completely covering the hair with some sort of hat and leaving the color up to the interpretation of the viewers," the man sitting across from Suzaku spouted. It was practically the same thing he had been saying for the past two hours, but finally getting to the "point"…if there was one. It was mostly just a discussion of the nitty-gritty details.

"Mister Bartley, as you recall every summary of the show we've submitted to the government so far has been approved. Everyone appreciates your great attention to detail when it comes to equal representation in your shows, but I don't think anyone will be offended because of the hair color of the main character." Suzaku rubbed his temples. He had lost count of how many times he had repeated that line of attempted reassurance.

"I really appreciate your compliments and concern, but there are many other things we're deciding on as well. We want to give the main character a certain…feel. We want to deepen the audience's understanding of the character's personality with an item or product. You see the beauty behind it, right? When you look at the products of the Shoes 4 Feet corporation, there are two main choices. They have their casual shoe, the one for everyday use, good for sports, walking, going out in…they are comfortable, generally good for most activities you might do in a normal day, with a nice design. Then they have their business shoe, clean and sharp looking for that professional touch. What type of person would buy the casual shoe? People who value comfort, people that like to relax in casual clothes, people that appreciate the ability to do the activities they want when they want to do them without worrying about things such as the wrong kind of shoe. You see what I mean? I just show you that my character wears this type of shoe and you already know all these things about them, but I didn't have to use complicated character development nor did anyone have to explicitly tell you this. Then I can have a scene with the character doing something action packed, productive, and positive like running to return a dropped wallet and you can understand why that's happening. It makes sense because you saw them put on these shoes, and the people that wear those shoes do things like that."

Suzaku raked his fingers through his hair and resisted the urge to tug clumps of it out. _The customer is always right_, he reminded himself with a few deep breaths. _Even if they believe they need to describe every little detail to _you_, the contract manager, rather than just signing the stupid thing and working out the specifics with the people who care._

"I understand, " he forced a smile. His job never used to aggravate him so much. Before…he could patiently sit through all of this, nodding when expected, raising his eyebrows, looking surprised, offering his opinion…"But you know that all these things don't need to be worked out before we agree to air your show. We understand the base idea and we're interested in airing it, so filling out around that base idea is all up to you."

"We just want to make sure these things are in order before we start producing. If a problem were to arise because of poor planning and we had to cancel the contract…well, I'm sure you understand. Not making the contract in the first place is preferable to cancelling."

Suzaku's head throbbed painfully. A mouthful of lukewarm coffee was the only thing keeping him from losing his composure.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the end they had used up every minute of the allotted meeting time. Suzaku spent the remainder to the meeting using every persuasion skill he had up his sleeve to get the guy to finally give in and sign. Luckily for his sanity, it was something he had managed to succeed in.

At the coffee shop with his handful of office friends, everyone was all smiles and pats on the back. They sat around a circular table in overstuffed armchairs, sipping from the same biodegradable paper cups stocked in their office building and eating "nutritionally balanced" sandwiches. Suzaku was relieved to get out of the office building, but oddly enough the company of his friends seemed cumbersome. He managed a more convincing smile as they proceeded to congratulate him for the nth time that day.

"See, I knew you could do it!" Rivalz exclaimed with a raise of his cup. The others agreed.

"Thank you, but it was nothing…not really a big deal," Suzaku murmured and averted his eyes to the contents of his cup. His sandwich was mostly untouched, but the caffeine from his beverage gnawed at his stomach. The feeling made him less inclined to eat. Of course it wasn't a big deal, as he had hardly done anything. The deal was decided the moment the show had been pitched to them.

"You don't always have to be so modest, Suzaku! This was a big one. Take some pride in your abilities. You're definitely the best contract manager in our company."

_I'm the only contract manager in the company_…Suzaku thought to himself, but bit it back and chose to shake his head with a smile instead. Everyone laughed and made comments about how humble he was. They started bringing up his past "successes".

"Hey," he interjected before they could get too far into the conversation. "I'm going to take a vacation…in celebration for closing the deal."

"That's a great idea! You really deserve it."

"Where are you planning on going? Or are you staying home?"

"I haven't really decided yet…" Suzaku trailed off. At least that much was true. When he thought about it, going somewhere felt like it had very little meaning to it.

"You should go somewhere nice. I've heard Pendragon is lovely this time of year."

"Yeah, thanks…I'll consider that." Just as he had thanked the therapist for her advice, acting as if he might use it (though in the end he _had_ decided to take a vacation…), he wasn't honestly going to think about traveling to Pendragon.

After lunch Suzaku and Rivalz were the last two to leave the coffee shop, and they stood out on the sidewalk looking in the direction of their tall, shimmering office building, completely void of any real windows. Some people said the shape and design of the building made it look very pleasing to the eye, like a work of art, a silver gem that represented the best of the best in modern entertainment. For a split second, with the sun falling just to the side of the building, the long shadow it cast over the city felt ominous and oppressive to Suzaku. Despite the pleasant warmth of the day he shivered.

"I really think you could use that vacation, buddy." Came Rivalz's voice from beside him. He looked over to catch a rare serious look from his blue-haired friend. "You've been acting a little strangely lately. You seem depressed and out of it. We're really starting to worry about'cha."

The soft tone of his voice coaxed guilt into Suzaku's expressive eyes. With a very slight but sincere smile, he patted Rivalz on the shoulder.

"Don't worry. I'm sure I just need some time to relax, and then I'll be good-as-new." He wasn't as sure as he sounded, but he desperately wished it to be true. For the life of him he couldn't understand why he was having so much trouble in society, when before he had been chipper, full of energy, and was excited about life and what it had to offer. After a long pause he looked away and spoke again, voice full of hesitation.

"Everyone wears Shoes 4 Feet shoes, right Rivalz?"

"Of course! They're the most reliable shoe available. You know that."

"…They're the _only_ shoe available," Suzaku murmured. "Why do we make such a big deal about what people buy? What they wear? What they eat, how their house is decorated…everyone uses the same things."

Rivalz looked confused. A sinking feeling attempted to drag Suzaku's stomach down into his feet as he realized he had slipped into a topic that wasn't really appropriate to talk about, best friend or not.

"That's because the government decided they were the best. Why would you need to produce any other shoe if you already have the best being produced? Everyone gets the most reliable shoe at a really affordable price. You don't have to worry about picking out a shoe you can trust from a sea of people willing to lie to you, to squabble amongst themselves for your business," he smiled. "It's a lot easier. I appreciate you testing my knowledge like that. You don't often get to exercise your ideals what with everyone in the world agreeing now."

At least Rivalz had given him an escape route, as if he couldn't believe that his friend, a good member of society, would honestly bring up heretical ideas. He forced a smile and a chuckle.

"Just checking. Anyway, you should get back to work. I sent a message to the boss earlier asking to leave early to start my vacation. I'll contact you later or something, okay?"

"Right. Have a good time, Suzaku!" Rivalz grinned and started off back towards the office building with a wave. The growing shadow of the metal fortress engulfed his friend and for the first time in his life he felt painfully and utterly alone.


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: So I wrote this a while back and was waiting until I finished the next chapter before putting this up but I hurt my wrist and typing is very difficult. I was looking into getting Dragon voice-to-text software though so hopefully I can write more of this soon. But I had to post this because…if you're familiar with US current events you know the healthcare bill passed. Really pissed me off, and exactly the sort of stuff that this story is speaking against. I really hope that somehow my humble fanfic might warn people…might change someone's mind or help get people to speak out. Then again everyone is probably like, "STFU AND GTFO we do not care abut ur politikz READINGTIEM???" …not that I blame you. Please try and enjoy.

Thanks to my friends that put up with my political rants and offer snuggles of comfort rather than trying to hit me over the head with a shoe. This is for you. And those that have patiently dealt with my slow onscreen keyboard typing of course.

* * *

On his walk to the bullet train station he felt extremely isolated.

All around him people were walking about, carrying their same cup of coffee, their same newspaper, wearing the same shoes, all laughing and smiling and talking about things that didn't mean anything. For the first time in his life he felt an invisible barrier between him and everyone else in the world. They hadn't lost their rose-tinted glasses, and he was stumbling blindly through a world stained in gray.

People with shopping bags came out of a shoe store and raved about their new purchases. They were already wearing the shoe available.

Some housewives meeting for tea at a café praised the amazing deals at the supermarket. It always had the same prices and the same choices.

He finally got the train station and waited with the large mass of people. He tried not to feel the distance between all of them, as if his negative energy created the wall he imagined. Fearing that allowing himself to get swallowed up in this train of thought would drive him mad, he tried to list off all the chores he needed to do at home.

"Isn't the government amazing?" a girl behind him marveled aloud. "This elaborate train system and we don't have to pay for it! Just scan your chip and get on. I must use this thing like, twenty times a week! It was _such_ a good idea for them to make it. But they always tend to have good ideas."

Suzaku bit back a groan and hurried to get on when the train arrived.

They played another interview with the "president" on his ride back home. He wanted desperately not to pay attention to it, and yet he couldn't block it from his mind. Apparently the government was still debating the measure over what hair color people were allowed to have. Suzaku sat tensely in his seat and stared blankly out one of the small windows.

"The whole issue lies in the inequality of hair color, correct?" asked the man interviewing the president.

"Yes. Everyone is taught in their history books about some of the wars that broke out purely because of genetics and things we can't control. This will be the first measure in a line of ground-breaking steps to further rid our beautiful community of feelings of inadequacy, of envy, unfairness…Everyone will have the same hair color to make sure we all feel equal and can focus on more important things."

"What hair colors are you considering?"

"Well, it can't be a naturally occurring hair color, because that would make the message out to be that people with those hair colors are naturally better than other people. We've considered muted versions of red and green, but that's still up for debate."

"I'm assuming everyone will be dying their hair to achieve the proper color? What about the people allergic to hair dye?"

"Unfortunately for now the safest way of changing hair color is still through hair dye. For those that have health issues, they will be required to wear a wig in the same shade of everyone else's hair until we come up with a better solution. The dye is only temporary, of course. We have scientists working on a way to actually alter what color your hair naturally grows as."

"That's really something! And you say you have more plans for this kind of measure?"

"Of course. After we've gotten this figured out, things like eye color, skin color, height, weight, etcetera are going to be discussed. We're concerned about the number of people teased for these traits, many of which they just can't control. Teasing has fallen drastically in recent years thanks to our equality acts, but it's still easier to make everyone equal in those aspects than to make people accept their peers as they are…"

The thought of having to change his body on government orders sickened him. He was all too happy to get out of the train when it slid to a stop. He wanted someone to talk to about this…no, more like he _needed_ someone to talk to, someone who would take it seriously, who wouldn't immediately side with all the things the government had been saying. There wasn't anyone else who felt like him though, was there? Suddenly the image of the old man came to mind and he mentally cursed the fact that he had been taken away. He was making his way towards the exit when a face in the crowd caught his eye. At first he couldn't recognize who it was, but there was the old man from before. Now his hair was clean and combed, his expression was bright and cheery, his skin clean, clothes in good shape…the same as everyone else. Startled, Suzaku found himself moving over to him before he realized what he was doing.

The man was passing out fliers informing people of some of the new measures the government wanted to take. He greeted Suzaku with a large smile, exposing well-kept teeth.

"Hello, brother! Please take this information about the future plans for our glorious city!" he offered Suzaku one of the fliers and Suzaku, unable to decline due to pure shock, took it with an unsteady hand. The hand fell to his side, the piece of laminated paper completely ignored.

"Didn't…didn't the peacekeepers take you away this morning?" he asked with a note of wariness.

"They sure did. They saw that I had stubbornly refused their kindness and was bitter because I didn't have these things in my life. They sat me down and explained _everything_ to me. They fixed me up nicely and even gave me a job so I'll have money for food and more clothes like this. I've never been so happy! Isn't our government just swell?" he seemed sincere and passionate. The dramatic change in his message frightened Suzaku into wondering just what the hell the government had done to this man. It was illegal to do anything…harmful, right? And yet he sounded completely different. He looked different. Suzaku took a step back. The man just kept smiling brightly at him. Another step, and another, and before he knew it he had turned on his heel and was running. People complained as he nearly ran into them, barely dodging around them, but he didn't slow down. He knew that no one was chasing him but he had this need to _escape_. The world, the one that had seemed just fine and dandy to him a week ago, two weeks ago, was becoming dark and confusing. Smiles turned sinister. Faces all looked the same. People weren't unique, they weren't individuals. They thought the same and were being made to look the same, act the same…!

In all his running he didn't realize he had squeezed his eyes shut. He hit something hard and cried out in surprise and slight pain, thinking it at first to be a pole. When he didn't topple over he opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was fierce, vibrant purple. No gray. No brainwashed dullness. Mesmerized, he hardly noticed when he was pulled into the shadows of an alleyway and pressed against the wall of a building. His gaze remained locked on purple eyes until the owner of such gems leaned forward to speak into his ear. Silky black hair brushed across his cheek and he blinked, staring off at nothing in particular.

"Don't attract attention."

It was definitely a male voice. Velvety smooth, it gave him the feeling that this man was very dangerous. Despite himself he just nodded, curious as to what was going on.

If just for one moment, he forgot about his panic, about being isolated. Someone was reaching through the barrier.

"I've watched you. That old man affected you. I heard what you were trying to say to the blue-haired man. I saw your reaction to the imposter." He was pinned down with those eyes again. Long eyelashes, thin black eyebrows, pale skin…the features weren't entirely uncommon, but he had the look of an aristocrat from ages long since passed, like a painting right out of the history books assigned in school. The grip on his shoulders, the one pressing him against the wall but completely unnecessary, was firm despite his slender fingers and thin arms.

The words sunk in.

What if this strange individual happened to be an undercover peacekeeper? What if he was going to take him in because of his behavior? Because he was showing signs of being like that old man? …It wouldn't be too bad to be back to feeling content, not caring what happened, enjoying what life had to offer and going along with things…and yet a part of his mind refused.

_I want to think for myself. I want to __**be**__ myself. I don't want to be like everyone else…_

"I didn't do anything wrong!" he exclaimed. "Don't take me awa--!"

Before he could keep yelling and pleading, one of those hands was pressed tightly over his mouth, successfully muffling his voice and cutting off his air supply.

"Calm down. I didn't say that you did anything wrong. You're going to get us caught if you keep screaming at the top of your lungs. I want you to listen to me. You're going to go back to the train station and you're going to get the old man to follow you here. Do you understand? I'll know if you fail to cooperate."

His lungs started burning and his mind screamed at him. _Need oxygen. Need to survive…need to __**breathe**_. He nodded furiously, or as hard as he could with that firm grip over his mouth, mainly to get this strange man to let go of him. The hand was removed just as he began to feel dizzy and he gasped for breath, slumping against the wall of the building while his eyes slid shut. All his life Suzaku Kururugi had never been afraid of anything. Now he had been terrified twice in one day.

"I have no intention of hurting you, provided you listen to me. You aren't satisfied with the direction this world is going…and I'm going to show you why that feeling is justified."

"…Why do you want to see that man? And why do I need to bring him here?" He was still wary. Being grabbed out of the blue by a handsome, intriguing young man seeming to lack sanity didn't just _happen_ to people. While his interest was piqued by the bait, the desire for companionship in this confusing and aggravating state of mentality close to overwhelming, he got the feeling that something bad would happen if he listened to this questionable demand.

"I'm going to show you something," he repeated, lacking emotion in his rich voice, his expression still fierce and acutely focused. There was an abundance of intelligence and secrets in those deep eyes. "If I'm seen by the ones called Peacekeepers, they will annihilate me."

…_Great_, Suzaku thought blandly. _Forced to do something by a wanted criminal. And if I'm caught with him, what will they do with me?_

Seeing the hesitance still written across Suzaku's face, he pressed him more firmly against the wall.

"If being asked makes the decision too difficult for you, allow me to simplify it." The voice was a whisper against his ear, perfectly calm and polite, but there was an edge to it that made Suzaku tense up. Not a moment later he felt the icy cold touch of metal under his chin, hard and unforgiving, molded into the barrel of a gun. The ice spread through his veins, leaving his whole body cold and trembling, his lungs forgetting how to pull in air and his throat closing up to prevent them from relearning. "_Go get the old man_."

Suzaku didn't need to be told a third time. He was gone the moment the man released him, diving back into the sea of people. He was like a fish trying to swim upstream against the tide of people trying to head back home from a short day of work, struggling past bodies and mumbling hurried apologies when he accidentally jostled someone in his clumsy panic. For a second he considered just running home or calling the peacekeepers for help. There was no way he could really know, right? But part of him didn't want to find out the answer to that question…the same part that was morbidly curious about what he felt the need to tell him. If it weren't for his newfound displeasure with the world, he wouldn't have given his words a second thought. But now, questioning the stupid ideas people clung to so easily, he desperately wanted to be assured that he wasn't the only one who felt like this. His legs retraced his steps back to the station where people constantly loaded and unloaded from bullet trains. It was a struggle to reach the wall off to the side where the old man had been before with his fliers, and for a moment, people still crowding the path there, he was scared that the old man would be gone. There was a man with a gun that had threatened him with unspoken horrors if he refused to bring him what he asked for. An imaginary gun was still pointed under his chin and he might not even know where the old man had gone to.

But there was the combed hair and the too straight, too white smile. Relief flooded through his limbs, making him feel weak and vaguely dizzy. His legs carried him the rest of the way there and before he knew it, he was standing in front of the grinning fellow. His eyes were glazed strangely and Suzaku couldn't tell if he recognized him or not.

"When the peacekeepers took you…you said you learned a lot about our government," Suzaku started slowly. He had no idea how he was going to get the man to follow him.

"Yes, they explained everything to me so that I would no longer be confused. So that I would see the light, the intelligence behind everything that they are doing. They showed me how misguided I had become through my ignorance."

"I…see…then, sir…if you would be so kind…please walk with me and tell me what you learned. I fear I have become confused as well and want to understand." The words came out before he could think of them. It seemed as if the man was very interested in spreading this message about how wonderful and amazing their government was, so with that excuse…

"Of course, my brother. Spreading the knowledge is my duty."

Suzaku felt a little sick at how easy it was to persuade the man to follow him. Hadn't he said it himself before? Like a lamb to the slaughter, he was allowing himself to be led away. He walked and the man followed, already beginning more of his ranting, more of what he had said to Suzaku just minutes ago. Suzaku didn't want to hear it, but when portions did slip past his defenses, he realized that there wasn't any "knowledge" in his words. All the man did was praise the government as if he had found a new religion.

He walked slowly, torn between his sense of dread and the desire for real answers. Despite his lack of acknowledgement the man continued to go on and on, more background noise that mingled with the hundreds of thousands of voices filling the city. Part of him wished that he would forget which alley it was, but his feet betrayed him and were already turning a corner between two tall buildings.

The old man followed him, oblivious to his motives.

Before Suzaku could even blink the old man had been shoved up against a wall in a manner very similar to what had happened to him. The barrel of the gun, a small thing with a modern design, was placed directly between the eyes of the man.

"You—!" the old man gasped as if he recognized the criminal. Then his eyes narrowed, any trace of that peaceful contentment replaced by contempt. "You can't keep this up for long, they'll find you!"

Suzaku was frozen in place from shock. His legs felt as if they had been encased in cement. He couldn't even look away from the scene. The purple-eyed man was calm and indifferent to the situation, and hardly seemed to be listening to the old man, anyway.

"Wait, are you really going to…?!" Suzaku exclaimed, though it felt as if his throat was constricting, so his voice came out like a strangled gasp. He had never seen a gun in real life before, just the stunners the peacekeepers used. The world was united, the government said. There was no reason to make those dangerous things anymore and risk the lives of innocent people. They didn't make guns, so where had he gotten it in the first place?

"I'm sorry for your suffering, Kirihara. I will return your freedom to you, and I pray that your soul finds peace. They won't get away with what they've done." His words were solemn and the determination was evident on his face.

Both Suzaku and the man he had called Kirihara knew what he was going to do. There wasn't fear in the old man's eyes, but his expression was fierce. A slim finger didn't hesitate to pull the trigger of the weapon.

The gun was silent as it released the bullet. Suzaku's eyes widened and he flinched, expecting to see everything stained with blood. He expected to see pieces of skull, gray matter exposed, blood pooling quickly, even eyes dangling by its single nerve…although he wasn't sure how that would happen. There wasn't any of that. The bullet had definitely gone between the man's eyes, lodged inside where his brain should have been, but there wasn't any blood. With a few jerks and twitches, Kirihara's body went still, a garbled attempt at last words trailing off into nothing. The light left his eyes but the man responsible continued to hold him upright.

"What…?" Suzaku whispered. He wasn't sure if it was even audible.

If the man heard he didn't answer. He put his gun back in his coat and set both hands on either side of Kirihara's face. With one sharp jerk and pull, the head separated from the body. Suzaku covered his mouth at the sickening sound of tearing flesh, but was once again surprised to find no gushing blood, no pieces of spinal cord, no pipes and tubes hanging out.

He was shown the part where head and body had been separated…and was shocked to see that all of it was metal. Wires replaced veins and board upon board of circuits interlaid with hundreds of tiny chips

attempted to recreate the organic tissue.

"When you saw this man earlier today he was flesh and blood. The ideas he was trying to spread were harmful to society in the eyes of the government, and he was beginning to learn too much. When the peacekeepers took him away, they had already constructed the perfect citizen to replace him with." The head was dropped unceremoniously, eyes and mouth still open, frozen in a look of…of…if Suzaku looked close enough he believed he could see gratitude.

The man released the body and it fell to the ground, not like the crumpling of a limp form, but of a stiff board falling to the side.

"Are you saying that they replaced a _human being_ with…with a _robot_? Because he was saying things they didn't want other people to hear?" Suzaku had been feeling discontent lately. He had just wanted to go home and relax, enjoy his vacation in peace, and regain the cheerful ignorance that had gotten him through most of his life. Never would he have believed that the government would really try something like this, but there was the machine. He had seen them take the man with his own eyes.

"If information about how they got into power in the first place got out, they wouldn't be able to continue their supreme rule. Ignorance and censorship are their tools to making people believe they are right. When that becomes too dangerous…well, in this day and age, people disappearing is more of an issue. Instead they make someone that will listen and obey, someone that will live their life exactly how they are told. A robotic form made to look like the one they took, uploaded with most aspects of the victim's personality, but tweaking things to their liking."

"But…how could they even manage something like that…? Wouldn't people…find out eventually? What do they do with the people they've…made robots of?" Part of him knew he didn't want to know. Part of him could guess.

"If people find out, they don't mind doing the same to them. For the sake of the "greater good", they can sacrifice as many people as it takes. The price is never too high, provided it doesn't affect them. They deal with the people who cause them trouble the same way they've dealt with them for thousands and thousands of years." He looked at the people walking by, a flash of emotion crossing his face, but soon it had disappeared back into his mask of collected intelligence. "They kill them. Kirihara, the real one, was dead. I was doing him a favor by removing this imposter."

The thoughts spun around in a whirlwind through his mind, filling him with a mixture of disgust, confusion, anger, remorse, until he had to turn himself to one side and was quietly sick. He was having trouble coming to grips with it all. The man politely said nothing and waited until he was done before gripping his arm to help steady him. For now he was in shock and had nothing to say to the mysterious purple-eyed man. He couldn't even voice a protest when he was lead from the alley, trembling, pale, and surprisingly cold, accompanied by a final murmur.

"I'm going to be staying with you for a while."


End file.
